


Curiosity

by hatebeat



Series: Daddy's Boys [2]
Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Drug Use, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-09
Updated: 2013-08-09
Packaged: 2017-12-22 23:09:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/919117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hatebeat/pseuds/hatebeat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started off as a simple curiosity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Curiosity

**Author's Note:**

> Set pre-series, but probably not too far back.

It started off as mere curiosity. 

"Pickles, could you come in here for a moment?" Charles said over the intercom. Pickles came sauntering into his office after a few minutes, clearly rather buzzed despite it only being early afternoon. But the boys had been doing their work and were on track lately, so Charles wasn't about to complain about them doing a little bit of mid-day partying.

"You wanted to see me, Chief?" Pickles plopped down into the chair. 

"Yes. I, ah, got what you requested." Charles pulled open a drawer and extracted three separate plastic bags, each containing different substances, and slid them across his desk to Pickles. For a moment he could see Pickles trying to work out a memory in his head of when he had asked for this particular shipment, but he could also see the exact moment Pickles decided that he didn't care.

Early on, Charles had realised that he had to be ready to supply his band with the drugs that satisfied their cravings. Allowing them to simply get it from whomever on the street was far more of a risk than Charles was willing to take. For most of the band, this wasn't particularly difficult. All of them engaged in drug use from time to time, but most of them were not regular users of any substance other than alcohol. Charles was able to keep what each of them generally used in stock and administered it to them when they came to him.

"Good, good. Thanks, dude." Pickles reached out for the bags and eyed each of them in turn.

Pickles was different in that regard. He needed not only a constant supply, but also a wide array of different drugs. Charles had only known the basics about drug use before he started out to become their supplier, but by now he must have done as much research as probably any psychiatrist had on the subject. If he had simply tried to tame these habits, Pickles would have just gone to other sources, and Charles was not willing to allow for that kind of danger.

Most often, Pickles would take his shipment from Charles and leave, but he could tell right before it happened that Pickles was just the right kind of intoxicated to feel like he was on top of the world, and it wasn't enough- he wanted to be on top of the universe. Pickles scooted the chair a little closer and opened up the bag of cocaine, spilling a little out onto the desk. After fumbling for his wallet for a second, he pulled out a credit card and divided the powder into two thin lines. Charles watched, a bit morbidly fascinated, as Pickles took it in his nose, and watched as Pickles slumped back in the chair, sniffling and already looking slightly dazed.

"Is there, ah, anything else I can do for you today, Pickles?" Charles asked after a moment, probably a moment longer than he should have. He couldn't deny enjoying the show; Pickles, although not shy about his drug use, tended to get high alone in his room before joining his bandmates, unless his bandmates were partaking as well. It was atypical for him to use right in front of someone like he just had. Charles found himself feeling curious.

"Oh, yeah, dude. I was thinking- I wanna try to get like a special pill made, you know? Like the perfect drug, just to my specifications. We got like labs and shit here, can we make it happen?" Pickles rubbed at his nose a bit. Charles wondered if it burned.

"Depending on the, ah, drugs in question, it may be possible. Give me a list and I'll make some calls."

Whatever it was would be considerably potent, Charles was sure, and he wouldn't let it near his drummer until it had been thoroughly tested. 

\---

Only a few weeks had passed when Pickles showed up at his door, so wasted that Charles was immediately glad he was in the safety of Mordhaus. Only this time, it wasn't his office door that Pickles had shown up at, but his bedroom door. It was late and Charles was just settling in for the evening. 

"Pickles. Is there something that can't wait until morning?"

"Dude! I ne... need you go get me some. S'more angel dust, dude. Okay? Gotta get s'more o' that..." Pickles was leaning heavily against the doorjamb. 

Charles raised an eyebrow. Pickles using that much angel dust in that amount of time was a bit of a reason for concern, and to be honest, Charles had a bit of the stuff locked away in his office; Skwisgaar enjoyed it at times, particularly if he was using it with Pickles. But Pickles was not at a level of sobriety at which Charles would feel comfortable giving him anything he asked for.

"Noted. Would you like a Klokateer to escort you to bed?" He knew there was one conveniently right outside his door as he posted guards outside each of their bedrooms during the nighttime hours- not that Mordhaus was unsafe, but one could never be too careful.

"Bed?" Pickles asked stupidly, hanging onto the wall to keep himself upright.

"Yes. _I'm_ going to bed, and I think that perhaps you should, ah, consider it as well. It's, ah, it's very late."

"Oh, bed, okay, yeah, okay. I'll go to bed." Charles was about to ask his guard to take Pickles back to his room, but Pickles launched himself forward and flopped down on Charles' mattress. Charles pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. He wasn't going to get any sleep tonight.

"Pickles, I suggest you return to your own room," he said firmly.

"Nah, dude... I'll ju... just sleep here, okay, in the mornin' w'cn get s... some cinnamon buns..." Pickles was nuzzling his face into Charles' pillow, curled up. Charles just sighed, and sat down on the other side of the bed. This was unacceptable, but he pulled a blanket over Pickles, and then he just sat back against the headboard.

An hour later, when Pickles was suitably passed out, he summoned a Klokateer to carry Pickles back to his own sleeping quarters. 

\---

The next time he got in one of Pickles' orders, he allowed curiosity to get the best of him. Instead of promptly calling Pickles in to receive his shipment, he sat the drugs on his desk and looked at them for a few minutes. He had little interest in the angel dust or the marijuana, but since watching Pickles snort cocaine directly in front of him, Charles hadn't been able to stop his curiosity from mounting.

He maintained composure, but it would be a lie to say that he wasn't just a little bit nervous as he withdrew a small portion of the white powder. At that point, he double-checked that his door was locked and he switched off the security cameras that monitored his own office. 

And then he got down to business.

Just as Pickles had done, he measured out two lines. They were smaller than the ones Pickles had taken, because Charles knew very well that he didn't have the same tolerance. He used a straw, however, to take it in. 

From what he'd read, he had expected it to burn more, but it was more uncomfortable than anything. Shortly after he finished thinking about that, though, he could feel everything change. His heart sped up, his fingers were tingling. 

As if he just realised what he had done, he hurriedly tucked the bags of drugs into his desk drawer. But then he was left staring helplessly at his desk. He still had work to do. This was just another work day.

So, he got to it. But he took off his suit jacket. It was just too damn hot.

\---

Charles looked up from his desk when Pickles came in without knocking. 

"Hey, dude, did you..."

A wide grin slowly made its way across Pickles' lips.

"What?" Charles asked, a moment before realising that such a response would be somewhat uncharacteristic of him. "Is there something I can do for you, Pickles?"

"You're high," Pickles pointed out, still grinning.

"No, I'm not."

"Dude, check out your eyes. Fuckin' blown," Pickles said, laughing.

"I can't check out my own eyes," Charles insisted, but that wasn't really the point here.

"Dude, why didn't you tell me, we coulda gotten high together!" Pickles sat down on the edge of Charles' desk.

"Pickles, I'm not high." Charles made a mistake, then, and sniffled. He couldn't help it.

"Ahhh- right there. You can't fool me, dude, I've been at this shit too long."

Charles sighed, but it was impossible to feel too irritated. "Let's just keep this between us." He opened the drawer and pulled out the bags that Pickles likely came in here for in the first place. "Here. Take them and go on."

"Fuck that, dude. Let's do a couple'a lines first."

Charles sighed again, but there wasn't a bone in his body that could find a reason to decline that offer.


End file.
